The Announcement
by Rose Stetson
Summary: Maxon drags himself onto the set of the Report only to tell Gavril Fadaye that there's no announcement yet. Just what is the announcement, and how will it change Maxon Schreave's life forever?


"Your Majesty!"

I turned a bleary eye in the direction of the makeup artist who often gave me a quick dusting of powder before the Report, nothing more and nothing less.

She tried to hide her shock at my appearance. I knew my shirt was haphazardly tucked and my suit was somewhat crumpled, far from the crisp suit and button down shirt I normally wore on the Report.

"Don't you worry, Your Majesty," Alice said as she hurried me into the chair. "We'll take care of those circles under your eyes in no time!"

"I don't remember the last time I got a full night's sleep," I murmured as I rubbed at my eyes with my hand. Some crisis had come up which had demanded my attention until 3 am this morning, and I'd awoken with America at 6.

The sleep deprivation was starting to catch up to me, and from everything I'd heard, it was just going to get worse starting as early as tomorrow.

"Nothing to announce yet?"

Gavril Fadaye walked over to me, looking as ready for television as I'd ever seen him. I was slightly jealous of that fact at the moment.

I shook my head at his sympathetic smile. I wasn't entirely sure how he knew, but I guess that was his job.

"We can handle the report without you, Your Majesty," he said, his journalistic eye studying me closely. "I'm sure that the Queen-"

"She kicked me out," I said with a shake of my head.

Gavril tried to suppress a chuckle. I knew he was no more surprised than anyone else had been. And as concerned as I was, my thoughts wandering back to her with every second that ticked by, I had to admit that it was a bit of a relief to take a moment to get back to normal life.

"She said it was bad enough that she wouldn't be on the Report. Everyone would worry or make conjectures about that. But if I missed it, she seemed certain it would be confirmation of every rumor that might be going around." I sighed and shook my head. "Gavril, have I mentioned that I am married to one stubborn woman?"

"I have a hard time believing that was a surprise to you," he said smoothly. But the smile on his face was a knowing one. After all, he'd been there for most of her stunts during the Selection.

"You might be right," I admitted with a groan as I rubbed my eyes again. Man, was I tired! "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

A hand thrust a warm cup into my own hands. "Coffee, Your Majesty."

My butler. What was he doing here?

"I sent for a change of clothes, Your Majesty," Gavril said with a nod toward the hanger which was now on the side of the makeup table. "Once you've gotten presentable, you can change. Then, we'll take our places."

I nodded. "Thank you."

"If anything changes, Your Majesty," he began. He hesitated for a moment, and I saw his own worry on his face. It was oddly comforting to know I wasn't the only one on the edge of my seat today. "I mean, if you get news during the broadcast, we'll cover for you."

I nodded slowly as I took another sip of coffee. "I doubt America would have kicked me out if I was going to need to leave during the Report."

Gavril nodded. "We're prepared all the same."

"I appreciate it," I admitted with a small smile.

A small platter of cheese, crackers, fruit, and crudités found themselves in front of me. I had a feeling it was my magical butler striking again, so good at his job that I didn't even see him.

I was passed from crew member to crew member before Gavril guided me up onto the stage for the televised Report. I was surprised to see how empty the room seemed compared to usual. Marlee and Carter were usually there, little Kile in their laps. They were all gone today.

Lucy and Aspen. Also both gone.

America's family would sometimes come, especially May, Gerad, and her mother, but only Gerad sat waving and smiling in my direction.

What I wouldn't give for more friendly faces out there today! It wasn't like this wasn't just a quick update to the country, but for some reason, in the face of everything that had the power to change in a single moment, I just wanted someone in the audience who could give me a reassuring smile.

A thought of my mother's smiling face hit me with such force that I almost fell out of my chair.

What I wouldn't give for her to be up on stage with me tonight. And America…

I could do anything if she was there, but she couldn't be. Not tonight. She had her own task ahead.

"Are you ready, Your Majesty?" The director of the Report nodded toward me, and I acknowledged the question. My mind might be in the hospital wing right now, but I could do this. I was born to do this.

"People of Illéa," I began as the cameras rolled and I forced a bright smile to my lips. "I wanted to begin tonight's broadcast by personally thanking all of you for the wonderful love you have shown our family in these last few months." It was astounding to me what messages of support and love had been shared with America and me over the past few weeks and months. It was truly humbling to lead these people. "We still have no announcements to make, but rest assured, we will interrupt any scheduled broadcasts with any change."

Gavril Fadaye chuckled in the background.

Just then, Aspen came tearing around the corner. He caught my eye and yanked at his ear lobe repeatedly. In his hands, he held one of my very favorite cameras.

My heart stilled.

An ear tug? From Aspen?

My camera?

My eyes widened as Aspen then changed tactics and pointed vigorously to his watch.

Gavril immediately stood up beside me at the podium. "Thank you, Your Majesty. And now for updates from our Council members."

Gavril guided me as if to my chair as the camera focused in on the council members who had advised me over the past few months. I walked as quickly and as quietly as I could to where Aspen stood.

He led me from the room as quickly as possible without announcing our departure, and as we broke into the corridor, he turned to me. "She's asking for you." He handed me the camera. "Said you'd need this."

I ran.

I will forever be grateful to all of the people in the palace for how they handled today, but the moment I entered the hospital wing, I realized I was grateful to Aspen for collecting me as quickly and efficiently as he had, to Gavril Fadaye for the crisp suit he'd ordered, and to Gerad for sitting in that little studio when the rest of his family was elsewhere, just so that he could give me a much-needed boost of morale.

But as grateful as I was for them, I would never, ever be as grateful for them as I was for the woman who was in front of me. Her red hair was matted to her head with sweat. Her teeth gritted together as she clasped her mother's and Marlee's hands.

May was silent as she took the camera from me. Marlee offered me a smile as she offered up her prized place as America's cheerleader to me.

"Hello, my dear," I whispered as I kissed her on the forehead. "How's it going?"

America groaned, and I wasn't sure if it was because I had tried to tease her with her most-hated term of endearment or if it was an expected part of delivery.

I glanced up at my mother-in-law. Her face mirrored my anxiety, but there was a certain degree of pride in her eyes. Funny how a single look could ease my mind and make me realize this was just par for the course.

"Baby number one is nearly here," the doctor said from the edge of the bed. "This baby is going to have a stunning head of dark hair!"

"Maxon," America moaned as she leaned her face into my shoulder.

I wrapped my unused arm around her shoulders. "I'm here. It's okay. It'll all be over soon."

"I'm just-I'm just so tired," she murmured. "I don't think I can do this anymore."

"You are the Queen of Illéa," I whispered, a wondering smile on my face as I watched her. "You can do anything you set your mind to."

"Another push should do it," the doctor urged.

"Come on, love," I whispered in America's ear, wishing for a moment that she could take some of the strength with which our friends had infused me only moments before. "You can do it."

America groaned as she used our hands to almost pull herself upward. She clenched her teeth again as Marlee, now standing behind the bed dabbed at her brow with a moist towel.

I have been privileged to hear many beautiful sounds in my life. The finest string quartets. The most famous singers. America herself had stunned me with her own musicianship.

I had heard the music in a rainfall. Enjoyed the most perfectly musical laughter. And up to now, I thought the most wonderful sound in the world had been America's acceptance of my proposal of marriage.

But absolutely nothing had prepared me for the beauty of that first cry, the wail that had told me before the doctor's words that I was a father.

America fell back against the bed, utterly worn from her labor, but I could only stare as the doctor revealed this beautifully perfect little person with dark, matted wisps of curls.

Her eyes were scrunched closed as she wailed at what she seemed to consider the indignity of her birth. My princess. My little Eadlyn.

The name had come immediately to me in the moment I first caught a glimpse of my daughter. America would hate it as she'd been the first to point out the ridiculousness of naming a daughter a name which meant Princess if she was a) an actual princess and b) had the potential to become Queen one day.

But looking at her tight fists and her angry face, I knew she was Eadlyn. She was our princess.

The doctor seemed only to have time to wrap her up and place her on America's belly before he turned his attention back under the sheet.

"America," I whispered, my voice catching in my throat.

"She's so beautiful," she finished with a shaky voice as she reached out a finger to Eadlyn's cheek.

I couldn't help it. I felt the tear slip down my cheek as I leaned in to kiss America's forehead. She clutched at my hand as if she too could hardly contain her emotions. I closed my eyes for a moment as I leaned my forehead against her head. "You're amazing," I breathed.

"She's not done yet," the doctor said with a tired attempt at a chuckle.

America inhaled as if she was trying not to cry at the thought.

"I'm here," I whispered, holding her hand. "I'm right here."

"You'll have two babies to show for it," her mother added in an attempt to comfort her.

America swallowed down her weariness as she looked up into the face of the doctor. "Any time you're ready," he said with a nod.

And seven minutes after his older sister, Ahren Schreave made me a father for the second time.

The rest of the evening passed like a blur. Gavril Fadaye sent a note informing America and me that the country and the world had been told of the twins' arrival. They hadn't even had to interrupt any of the regularly scheduled broadcasts. Both babies had been born before the last advisor's report to the nation.

He also sent a box of strawberry tarts with his congratulations. I could have sworn I saw a tear fall from America's eye as she caught sight of them.

At some point as America held the twins, I kissed her forehead, still overcome enough by the love that surged through me with each glimpse of my family that a tear slipped down my cheek. I heard the click of the camera, and I was grateful that someone had thought to take a picture which included me.

"You ruined the ear tug for me, America," I murmured as we struggled to keep our eyes open.

The twins had been placed in little bassinets in the room as they had fallen asleep. America was absently running her fingers through my hair. I could feel my eyelids grow heavier with each stroke.

I really needed to remember this technique for any time one or both of the twins decided they didn't want to go to bed.

"Hmm?"

I laughed softly to myself as I turned to look up at my wife. Her eyes were drooping more heavily than mine. I was somewhat surprised to see that she had managed to stay awake this long! If I had just given birth to two babies, I had a feeling I would have been asleep far earlier than this.

"I said you ruined the ear tug for me, America," I said with a laugh. "What made you think to send Aspen running into the studio, yanking on his ear?"

She giggled. "He didn't!"

"As Gavril Fadaye is my witness, he did!" I assured her.

She giggled again, her voice light and high and slightly slurred in her exhaustion. "All I said was that he needed to tug on his ear, and that you'd know what to do."

"The only way you could have scarred me more was if you'd sent your mother to do it," I teased as I kissed the palm of her hand.

She turned an impossibly tender smile toward me. "I really thought we had more time when I asked you to go."

I nodded. "I know. And truthfully, I think I needed the break."

She squeezed my hand as if to admit that she knew me better than I even knew myself sometimes.

"I met my future Queen in a crisp suit, clean shirt, and tie," I said as I brought my hand over to rest of baby Eadlyn's chest. I looked back up at America whose smile was warm and watery with the tears which had come in waves over the past few hours. "While I wish I'd been here, I'll always be grateful for that."

America squeezed my hand again though this time, I could see her chest heave with a heavy sigh.

"America?"

"You just said you met your future Queen," she breathed. "But you didn't. Not really. You met the princess who has traditionally been sold off into a loveless marriage to some other country for an alliance."

I knew she was thinking about Gregory Illéa's daughter. Her story had upset America even back when she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to be anything other than my friend. How much worse was it now that she had a daughter who could be in line for the throne?

"I won't let that happen," I promised, catching her eye.

"But even if we don't marry her off to some foreign dignitary," America continued. "Illéan law currently states that only the male inherits the throne."

"Laws can be changed," I said with a shrug. "I think that's something we, of all people, can concede."

America's lip trembled, and she tried to hide her concern from me.

"America," I whispered as I gently moved her face so that she would look at me. "What is it?"

"Is it so terrible that all I want is for them to have a normal childhood with normal friends and normal opportunities for love?"

I shook my head. I'd grown up with this life as the only one I knew, and even I didn't want that for them.

"It's the life they've been given, but it's not wrong to want more for them," I said, kissing her knuckles. "We're in the fight to give everyone choices over their own lives. Isn't it ironic that the difference of seven minutes is going to change our children's lives forever?"

America managed a thin smile, and I stood up only to carefully sit beside her on the bed and wrap my arms around her. "They're going to be all right, America. I won't pretend I'm not scared to death right now, but I can't shake the feeling that they're going to be just fine."

She relaxed in my arms, and only a few moments later, as I leaned my ear against her forehead in the droopiness of sleep, I heard her tiny snores.

"Good night, America," I murmured with a sleepy smile on my lips. "Good night, Eadlyn and Ahren. Happy birthday!"


End file.
